


Not Ever

by KellyDay



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 08:37:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8571697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KellyDay/pseuds/KellyDay
Summary: This is my humble contribution to the SSxPP ship.It takes place at Winterfell after the Battle of the Bastards.





	

Podrick Payne stood next to a large wooden door, staring ahead blankly. He amused himself wondering how much of his life he’d spent standing next to doors, waiting. At the Red Keep, he would pass the time by reciting in his head the words of all the great houses. But within Winterfell’s crumbling walls, the diversion seemed crass. Every day, he reminded himself that he was grateful to be alive. Grateful to be a small part of Winterfell’s recovery.

At that moment his cohorts were probably at the pub, ignoring their own grim thoughts with novelty. _There would be women…_ and wine, Pod thought. He was sure to catch up with the other men later. For now, he resigned himself to his duty.

The door swung open, its heavy creak startling him to attention. Lord Baelish held it open and muttered something inaudible to Lady Sansa as she walked out into the corridor. The lady wore a green velvet robe with fur cuffs, her hair braided to one side. Pod thought she looked especially queen-like. As the door slammed shut, she turned to him with a puzzled look.

“Lord Snow asked that I accompany you, my lady.”

She sighed and walked on. Pod stayed beside her. “I apologize for my brother,” she shook her head. “He still treats me like a little girl.” Her words were sharp.

“It’s all right,” Pod spoke quietly, sensing her frustration. “It’s an honor, my lady.”

“What honor is it escorting around a witless girl?” She scoffed.

He shrugged. “You’re better company that a bunch of drunk soldiers.” 

Sansa laughed softly, and relief washed over him.

“And if I may,” he said, growing bolder, “witless girls don’t survive. You not only live, but you took back your home. It’s an honor, my lady.”

Sansa smiled at him warmly. The rose of his cheeks reminded her of the boy who had once cast his eyes down as soon as she passed. But she had to remind herself that things had changed. Sansa had watched him attack another man in her honor. She had seen the fear and hate in his eyes.

“Thank you for your kind words, Ser Podrick,” she said when they reached her chamber door.

“I’m not a knight, my lady.”

“We must remedy that.”

His eyes looked straight at her now. He smiled. Sansa watched him smooth his hand over a growing beard. His hair was much longer. His shoulders, broader. But his earnest eyes had never changed. Ser Podrick Payne, she thought. When did he get so handsome?

“Well, my lady, I won’t keep you–”

“I heard a rumor about you–” she blurted out.

“A rumor, my lady?” Podrick tensed, fidgeting with the pommel of his sword.

“I er… a h-hand maiden told me that Lord Tyrion gifted you three _ladies_ for your services at the Blackwater.” Her cheeks flushed.

“I apologize, my lady, if that offends you.” Pod felt like he was suddenly drowning.

“No, I’ve offended _you_ …”

“You haven’t. I just don’t talk about it, my lady.” He shrugged.

“I can’t believe it’s _true_.” She shook her head, grinning.

“I take it you think it’s funny.” Pod said flatly.

“Not like that, Pod. Just… that must have been _so_ …”

“Strange?”

“Overwhelming.”

“It was both.”

“Is it true they refused your gold?”

“I believe that was a trick by Lord Tyrion, my lady. I was a maid.”

“Oh.” Sansa was surprised at how casually he had admitted it. “Well… how did it _feel_?”

He did not know why, but her question made him profoundly sad. “I supposed I’d never _felt_ that way before. But then…” Pod trailed off. He realized they were still standing outside her chambers. He began to push the door open for her. “It’s late, my lady–“

“No, you must continue.” She demanded, her interest piqued.

“I’ve never been in love,” he said uneasily.

“Neither have I. I only _thought_ I was. Do you think that makes a difference?”

“I suppose it must, though I don’t know.”

“Sometimes I think…” she stopped. “I’m keeping you. Good night, Ser Podrick.”

“My lady, please finish your thought.”

“I was only saying… maybe it doesn’t matter about love. If you’re with someone you’ve known and trusted… Someone who would never _hurt_ you…” She spoke slowly, a faraway look in her eyes. Pod admired them intently until they fixed onto his.

Pod kept what he hoped was a deadpan look on his face, trying not to look away. His heart pounded, deafening in his ears. “Good night, Lady Sansa.” He backed away and turned to the corridor.

“Pod,” Sansa croaked, a lump in her throat. “ _You_ would never hurt me, would you?” 

He turned to her, but stayed where he was. “Not ever,” he said.


End file.
